


small drabbles?

by disgruntledchowchow



Series: One-Shots (at least for the time being) [12]
Category: Bridgerton (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:00:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29066214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledchowchow/pseuds/disgruntledchowchow
Summary: my lil baby drabbles as i learned how to write lol.
Relationships: Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Basset
Series: One-Shots (at least for the time being) [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135856
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54





	small drabbles?

~1~  
Next time Simon and Daphne are in London for next season Daphne secretly learns how to box from Will.

Strangely enough the next time Simon goes to box with Will, he is not in the ring but Daphne is. Simon thinks it’s gonna be all cute and whatever but he goes down faster than Nigel Berbrooke did.

Simon gets up and asks for a rematch and this time he’s prepared like he isn’t gonna hit his wife but he sure as hell is gonna block and stuff, and he maybe lasts a minute longer than last time.

Will is in the corner LAUGHING his ass off commentating about how Simon is “still on the dance floor Miss Bridgerton left you on?”

If Simon were not so flabbergasted he would have reminded him her name is Basset now. 

~2~  
Once Daphne has apologized and Simon and her are okay, to the point they can both joke about having kids, daphne starts acting super secretive about something.

Very small things like whispering with the staff and going silent when he walks into the room. or like going into town without telling Simon the reason why. or talking to the chefs about “a new diet.”

simons over here hella confused for like two weeks, wondering why Daphne won’t talk to him about it and how the staff is WAY more loyal (or scared) of her as none of them will spill and he’s practically convinced she’s pregnant but can’t imagine why she won’t tell him, and so he confronts her one night after two weeks of living in the AGONY of not knowing and Daphne looks at him and bursts out laughing.

Daphne walks out of the room, and Simon is still inside working himself into a proper strop when Daphne walks in holding a puppy.

~3~  
Simon and daphne need no excuse to have sex and they are nuts about each other, so it stands to reason the first time Simon has to leave for an extended period of time he and Daphne are decently broken up about it. Simon slightly more so than daphne, but it's not a competition. 

when Simon returns late in the evening after three weeks away, he grabs a quick bite before he goes up to their rooms where Daphne has already retired for the night. he quietly freshens up and changes before crawling into bed, reaching for daphne to pull her back against his chest. It is then he realizes, she doesn’t seem to be wearing one of her nightgowns…no it feels like a shirt…one of his shirts. In the flickering light of fire, he manages to make out his wife whose top half is draped in his half unbuttoned white billowy shirt with the cuffs rolled up. 

Simon's brain effectively short circuits. 

when the two finally make it out of bed days later, Simon makes it a point to get rid of all of her nightgowns, well not really but he makes it clear that he would much rather she sleep in his clothes. daphne, as one would expect did not protest in the least. she had only really worn them since it made her feel like Simon was there with her when he was away, but if this was the result she would happily get rid of all of her dresses. 

~4~  
After they’re married, people expect the Duke to be super protective and jealous and like he is, but he’s fine with daphne dancing with other men at balls (she hardly dances with anyone outside of her brothers and him anyway), fine with her heading over to lady Danbury's for soirées and generally lets her do her thing.

Daphne on the other hand has a big ass green chest monster that absolutely wastes no opportunity EVER to raise its head. Like someone will look a second too long at Simon and daphne will make sure to put her hands on him, pull him over to her, engage him in any sort of conversation, or in other words make it abundantly clear that he is HERS and TAKEN and HERS. Last time they went to a boxing match and Simon rolled up his sleeves and she could see all the ladies eyeing him up and down, she pulled him into a seat sitting herself on his lap impropriety be damned he was HER husband and god damn it, everyone around her better remember it.

Simon on the other hand finds it absolutely adorable his wife thinks he would notice anyone but her and finds it cute when she practically bares her teeth in jealousy. even after marriage his wife protects him from the thirsty hordes of society.

~5~  
There’s a rumour that the Duke of Hastings has a tattoo. lady whistledown mentions it, but there’s so little information on it and no confirmation on whether it’s real, what it is of, or where it is that eventually, it’s just one of those things that adds another layer of aloofness and mysteriousness and sexiness to the Duke.

We know Daphne finds the Duke attractive, he’s hot as fuck and knows it, confident, tall, I mean she could go on and on. So when she’s finally alone with him and they’re married, of course, she’s over the moon this man is hers, but a little part of her is also desperate to finally know…and to be the ONLY one that knows whether he has the tattoo or not.

As she’s unbuttoning and pulling off his shirt for the first time, fingers skating along each inch of skin as it is uncovered, savouring the feel of the hot-blooded man beneath her hands, moving her hands lower to skim over his muscled chest, a flash of darkness catches her eye. Focusing there, she sees a small box just under his left armpit with some ornate work inside, but a decent amount of skin showing through. it’s mostly for decoration he tells her, but for about six months when he was abroad he participated in some boxing exhibitions. Whenever he won, a little more was tattooed in, and if it filled up he would get a second outline box outside this one to fill. He was called home before he could really finish filling it in, he clarifies, he was, is, an excellent boxer. and with that, they move on to the main events of the night.

Simon knows about the ton’s unnatural fascination with his rumoured tattoo, and he knows Daphne finds it sexy, and he knows she absolutely loves being in on the secret and smiling that mysterious little smile whenever someone presses her on it. The idea of a little token to show her just how much he loves her, just for her, starts to form in his mind.

Next year, Simon returns from a two-week-long trip on her birthday, and she notices his left side seems a little sore but doesn’t pay it much mind. It is only when she is laying in his arms, draped over his chest about to fall asleep fingers lightly skimming over him does she notice a new addition in the tattoo square…a stylized DB in a small heart.

And if Simon manages to also tattoo in the initials of all of their kids as they are born, well wouldn’t that just be adorable.

And lastly, well if a couple of years after their first anniversary, Simon is on his knees rucking up her dress in the library in a moment similar to that on their honeymoon, when a dark flash on Daphne's right hip catches his eye, and it’s a small tattoo of his initials SB, well that’s nobody’s business but theirs.

~6~  
Daphne has become legendary at Lady Danbury's soirées for being extremely good at cards. Like really good. Rarely, if ever does she lose, and she always walks out with more money than she walked in with. Naturally, that gives her a little extra confidence, a little ego boost.

One night, Simon's home late and as he’s walking to their bedroom, he sees a light in his slightly ajar study. Walking in, he sees his wife, all dolled up, slightly flushed, probably from the drinks at Lady Danbury's, sitting on his desk with one leg crossed over the other, her hands fluidly shuffling a deck of cards. Glancing up at him, she slyly asks if he’s up for a game.

Simon's never mentioned it, but he knows his wife always wins a decent amount of money at Lady Danbury's soirées, it’s reflected in his books. It can’t hurt to play a game or two, the aura of confidence she is radiating looks good on her.

He makes to move over to the chaise when he hears her say “But there’s no point playing for money is there, what’s yours is mine and we have enough to spare. How about we up the stakes? How about strip poker?”

Daphne is riding high on her wave of confidence from her winnings earlier that night. It wouldn’t be too hard or take too long to divest him of his clothes, and she could soothe his bruised ego with a blowjob.

She’s not sure exactly what happened, but it’s been maybe fifteen minutes and she’s naked while he’s fully clothed, fluidly shuffling the cards.

He smirks at her, “Darling, you may be good at cards, good enough to beat the company at Lady Danbury's but you have a lot to learn if you’re gonna beat me. Years on the continent meant I picked up more than a few tricks.”

A minute later in the face of her (adorable) face he admits that he was planning to go easy on her, well until she upped the stakes to strip poker and he couldn’t resist. As he looks her up and down all shadows and curves flickering in the firelight, he can’t bring himself to feel even an ounce of regret.

And honestly, with the way he worships her, it feels like Daphnes the one that won the game rather than Simon.

~7~  
Now that they're okay, Simon kind of feels bad they never had a real honeymoon. Yes there was that week (month) where they did nothing but have sex but there were still responsibilities he had, and now that he had a few competent stewards it was high time he got to take some time away to just enjoy his wife. 

“Yes.” he thought and set off in search of Daphne. He found her sitting on a chaise reading a book, bathed in the afternoon sunlight. Utterly spellbound, as he often was when he gazed upon his wife, it was only when she smirked and cleared her throat did he come back to himself. 

“Daphne. now that things have settled, I realized we never had a proper honeymoon, we had a…”

“Sex marathon?” 

“Well, that’s one way to put it. Yes, we had a sex marathon. But I never really took you away, left our responsibilities behind, didn’t pay any heed to propriety or appearances because those people would never see us again. I would like to take you on a proper honeymoon…wherever you would like to go. You name it and I will make it happen.” 

Daphne picks up the bookmark to her right and places it in her book, before closing the book and placing it off on the side of the chaise. She then raises her eyes to meet Simon's, and without missing a beat with a dead straight face she says “Prussia.” 

Simon GLARES at her. 

Daphne bursts out laughing, to the point she almost rolls off the chaise while Simon stands there, still glaring until Daphne recovers a modicum of her control and wraps herself around him kissing every part of him she can reach until she feels him unstiffen. 

“Anywhere but fucking Prussia Daphne.” 

She just bursts into laughter again. 

~8~  
Simon ends up taking Daphne to the french riviera for their real honeymoon. Daphne’s super excited, not only does she get three weeks where she doesn’t have to share her husband with anyone, but she’s never been to France. Simon’s never mentioned France as part of his travels on the continent, so she imagines he isn’t exactly fluent in the language. She had to learn french, and while she can’t really say she was good at it, or that she remembers much of it, or that her pronunciation was any good, so it’s highly unlikely she’ll be of any help there but honestly she’s so excited to spend time alone with him with zero other responsibilities she knows it will be alright they’ll get by.

They’re sitting by a beachside restaurant at sunset for their first meal and she’s prepared to point to the pictures beside the french words on the menu to order. So it’s a proper surprise when the waiter arrived and Simon gives her a wink and orders in fluid french. She’s can feel her face heat up, blush spreading, and her heartbeat speeding up. She had no idea, but hearing Simons deep gravelly voice speaking french did things to her. Simon looks at her across the table, raising his eyebrow in a questioning gaze, and she waves off his concern. It’s not a big deal, and she wishes she wasn’t so easy for him to read.

Simon suspects his wife may have a kink for him speaking french, but only confirms it when they’re in bed later that night and when he knows Daphne is getting close, he leans down and purrs

“ça te plaît?”

“ah, baise moi…”

“tu as tellement bon goût…”

Daphne comes harder than she ever has before, so hard she blacks out for a few moments.

Rolling over to look at her, Simon smirks,

“So french… I take it you like it?”

~9~  
“Did you just get back from your ride?”

“Yes, I found the cliff you mentioned last week…it was so gorgeous…the views…you could see the sea and rolling hills for miles…i just stared, trying to memorize it”

“Hm…well why don’t we talk a ride up there tomorrow? we can bring a picnic, set up there for a few hours and relax in the warm weather and sun…just the two of us”

“really? i know you’ve been busy..I don’t wanna bring you away…”

“Work can wait, spending a lovely day with my wife can’t wait..ever.”

“Simon! you’re far too good to me…i’ll go let the cooks know to prepare something for tomorrow”

.

.

.

“We need to turn right here.”

“No we need to turn back.”

“No we need to turn right. trust me. i know these lands like the back of my hand, i was the one that grew up here, we need to turn right.”

“Simon. We’re in the middle of a fucking forest. there is no right.”

“ok. point. but this is all part of the route.”

“Listen here. I found the cliff on my own yesterday, in no little part because your directions were absolutely useless. I don’t care if you’ve lived here you have no idea where we are”

“that is NOT true i’m an excellent place-finder”

“Simon. I love you. I really do. But you have the worst sense of direction of anyone iv ever met.”

“Daphne! I most certainly do not. I’m excellent with directions. I spent years on the road, finding my own way, and not ONCE did I get lost.”

“Really. So that was someone else that didn’t know London was north of here? And it was a stranger that forgot we have to turn left out of the vauxhall to reach hastings house?”

“those were ACCIDENTS. i was testing you. I have an excellent sense of direction.”

“Alright. fine. forget the bloody cliff, lead us home then your grace.”

“with pleasure”

.

.

.

“Daphne”

“Yes dear.”

“It’s getting dark”

“Yes it is. what an astute observation”

“Can you lead us home”

“Oh are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose my own humble directions upon the greatest guide in all of england”

“That’s it forget it, you go your own way and i’ll find my own god damn way back..all alone…in the dark…who knows what animals roam…what dangers lurk…”

“Oh you big fucking baby follow me”

.

. ~approx 300m later by horse~

.

“We have arrived your grace” Daphne smirked.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

~10~  
Daphne came up behind Simon as he was playing the pianoforte…a skill he neglected to mention he had when they were courting, or even after they had married. She only found out because she had happened upon him playing when she was supposed to go riding with Lucy Granville but their outing had been cancelled due to a high chance of rain, and to her utter consternation as someone who put hours of effort into practicing, he was a natural, fingers flying across the keys to produce a deep, harmonious melody. She slipped her arms around him to lean her head on his shoulder, before speaking in a low voice beside his ear.

“I have always wondered what plays in one’s mind when a….a piece is performed”

Simon paused to look at Daphne, slightly confused but not altogether unhappy at the turn of events. For some reason, he was hit with a slight sense of deja vu as if he had heard that sentence somewhere before.

“I imagine you know quite well…given you play too, I dare say more often than I do.”

As Simon turned back to face the instrument once more, he felt Daphne move in closer, pressing her curves to mould against his back. Moving her hands to divest him of his coat, vest, and cravat, leaving him only in a shirt, she traced paths along the muscles of his chest and ropey veins of his biceps.

“Anything else you’d like to remove my dear?”

“Hm..not remove but if you could roll up your sleeves…”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed what my rolled-up sleeves do to you”

“I don’t think that’s a very well kept secret, your grace, given once you do it neither of us waits very long before disappearing together and returning looking utterly debauched.”

“Touché.”

“You never answered my question though…what do you think of?”

“Well, honestly nothing. I usually play to clear my mind when the usual activities are either unavailable, he eyed her, or not working.”

He turned to face the piano once more, thinking of finishing the piece he had started when he noticed Daphne had once again moved in closer and her hands had resumed their exploration of his body.

“Hmmm…well would you like to know what I think of when I play your grace…” Daphne murmured in a sultry voice.

She continues, “Hmmm well….sometimes I think on the meaning of the songs I play…at other times I think of all the tasks I have failed to accomplish during my day…and sometimes I ponder my plans for after my performance….”

Feeling Simon stiffen…she moved her hands up to massage his shoulders, encouraging him to relax. There was no way she knew. He has practically forgotten that conversation himself, and that’s really all it had been, a conversation. He had never agreed to anything, and he never followed up or pursued anything. It was a coincidence. A strange one, but a coincidence all the same. It had to be.

Once she felt him leaning back against her, relaxed once more, she delivered her final line, “Might I entice you to take in one of my performances sometime soon? perhaps tomorrow night?”

Before she realized what had happened Simon had moved out of her grasp to twist across the seat so he was facing her and pulled her into his lap, immediately searching her eyes for any signs of anger, but he found only humour with a slight bit of jealousy.

“Alright, how did you find out about that? Actually wait, before you tell me you do know that I never went to her, yes? She asked, I neither confirmed nor denied that I would be there given I knew your brother's inclinations towards her, and I never slept with her”

Daphne relaxed upon hearing from him that he had never truly gone to Siena. She couldn’t, wouldn’t have blamed him if he had, she was gorgeous and talented, probably in bed too, and she knew about his days as a rake, but she preened inwardly knowing that even when he would have rather died than admit he liked her, he didn’t sleep around.

“Well, I was at the modiste and Siena came through the back door, supposedly she and Madame Delacroix are good friends. Madame went to meet her, and Siena was rather drunk, she was going on and on about how difficult it was to find a new protector to keep her clothed and fed, and how much easier her life would have been if she just trapped the Duke of Hastings. She went on and on about how rich and handsome the duke was, and how she would probably sleep with him without any of the other benefits just because he was that sexy, and how though she had pulled out all the stops with her best lines, displaying her assets quite openly, yet she lamented that you never came to her.”

“I was quite ready to smack her over the head with a roll of fabric, but you’ll be happy to know I restrained myself, and I pretended not to have heard a word when Madame returned.”

“But you couldn’t just tell me about it could you,” Simon asked wryly, already knowing the answer.

“Ah, but what’s the fun in that?”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Fun for you, what about for me? Anyhow forget fun, I would rather like to take in one of your performances right now. A private one, clothing optional and discouraged…..will you be coming your grace?”

“I sure hope so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!  
> Thank you so SO so much for reading, I hope you liked it —  
> if you ever wanna come yell at me about bridgerton or harry potter or criminal minds or one of my other 34 interests please comment or hmu on tumblr  
> disgruntledchowchow :)) 
> 
> also lmk what you’d like to see more of!!


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